“Mmhmm,” she said, squinting her eyes at her as she took another forkful of leafy greens into her mouth. “Yes, you can. Just get up slowly. Take your time. I’m sure Magda wouldn’t fault you for using the elevator if you want.”
Evie slowly brought her legs to dangle over the side of the cot. Her boots were sitting next to the bed, and her socked feet felt strange. She could see all the filth and gore that covered her pants now. The dog collar was still around the bottom of her thigh, silvery spikes poking out the holes they created in her pants from the day before.
“Oh, and the subconjunctival hemorrhaging should go away in about a week or two,” she told her and tore at a piece of salty, dried fish.
“What?” Evie screwed up her face in complete confusion.
Chris held up a finger and stood back up, putting her tray on her desk again. She grabbed a little mirror off the wall by the sink. She handed it to Evie so she could see herself. The first thing that stood out was how dirty her face was. It looked like someone tried to wipe off the dirt and all levels of aged blood from her face, but with no success. She looked herself in the eyes. It was like they were blood shot, but in great bright red patches. Her one eye was almost entirely covered, barely any white left. The other had a little bit, but her gaze fell down to the yellow skin of her aged bruise under it that spread out down her cheek. Then she caught the finger prints around her throat. She handed the mirror back to Chris.
That had to have been the first time she looked at herself since this whole thing began. She didn’t recognize a single thing about her own face, and it seemed like even her body didn’t know which person to be. Her skin was a different color at every inch, and her hair was caught between two different lives.
Chris sat back down with her food, but didn’t eat. She was looking at Evie.
“Go ahead, honey. Go take a shower. Put on some fresh things. That’s always a good place to begin.”
Chris’s words brought her back to what Jack had said to her, and she realized how right he really was. She gave her a nod and slid off the cot. In one hand she held her boots, the other, her third pint of water.
“Thanks, Chris. For everything.” She reached over and hugged her. When she pulled away, Chris was frozen again in surprise by the sudden show of emotion. “We are friends.”
Evie walked out of the office, and about ten seconds later Chris smiled, and quietly said outloud to herself, “Well, alright.” Then she went right back to finishing her meal.
Evie didn’t take the elevator. She wanted the slow trek up. She knew it was late, after dinner as Chris mentioned. But she didn’t realize how late. Everyone was in their rooms, the sky black save for a little wedge of moon right over the tree tops. She made her way up the main stairs. At the top, she peered into the little windows of the common room doors. Empty. She made her way to the corner where the other set of stairs would take her to the third floor and her room. The quiet hallways felt right to her now, and she walked to her door feeling like it really was her room for the first time.
First thing she did after dropping her boots by the door, was head directly to the shower and turn it on. She walked over to her windows as she waited for the water to heat up. A light was on across the courtyard. One room over to the right from hers and one floor down. Jack’s. She looked away at first when she saw him sitting on the bed, realizing it still wasn’t appropriate to be peeping into people’s windows regardless of the state of the world. When she turned away, she saw her small pack on top of her closet like he told her it would be. And she looked back at him.
She watched as he sat on the side of his bed with his head in his hands. His sheets were rumpled up like he had slept in them or had tried to. He got up, disappearing from view for a moment, only to return with his bow. She smiled remembering what he said down in Chris’s office. He worked at the mechanism for a little bit until Evie felt she had definitely pushed the limits of looking in at him and headed to the shower.
It is true. After a hangover, or a long night, or a good night, a bad night, or even a long trip, a shower was exactly what you needed to start the next thing. The water at her feet was a swirl of browns, reds, and blacks. Pieces of twigs and dried leaves from her stumbling around in the woods the night before gathered in the drain. She collected them, throwing them in the little plastic garbage that sat next to her sink. The steam had condensed on the mirror, and she wiped it away. She was cleaner for sure, but still, a collection of events and people played out on her body.
When she finished putting on comfier clothes for sleeping, there was a knock at her door.
“Come in,” she said, wondering if it was Chris already coming to check on her.
“Hi, Evie.” Anna tentatively put her head around the door. “Can I come in?”
“Sure.” She gave her a smile, watching the young girl make her way into the little suite.
She stood in front of her for just a moment before stepping in fast and hugging her.
“Oh. Um, okay,” Evie said, slowly putting her arms gently around the girl too.
“I’m just so happy you’re ok. After everything. And today.” Anna’s eyes were full to the brim with tears getting ready to spill.
Evie smiled at her again. “And how are you doing?”
“I’m ok,” she said, a little pull at one corner of her mouth and a shrug of her shoulders. “I had nightmares the first few nights, but not the past couple.”
Evie nodded. She had no words of comfort about the timespan of bad dreams and replays.
“I’m glad to hear it, Anna.”
“I also wanted to say how sorry I am. For hiding in the car. That was so stupid.” The girl started to fold in on herself.
“Hey, stop it. Stop. It’s done. Ok?” She looked at her trying to stress that point.
“Ok,” she said, tearing up again.
They stood there a little longer across from one another. Anna was looking around her room, not trying to hide it at all, and Evie began to wonder if she wanted to stay for a while.
“Would you like a drink?” Evie saw her glass on the tiny kitchen island and walked over to start at it again.
“Oh, no, sorry.” The girl shook her head a bit, feeling foolish. “I actually came to give you something before I went to bed. I just finished it.” She reached into her pocket and pulled out what looked like a card.
“Thanks. Did you make this?” Evie started to work at the handmade envelope the girl must have made, sealed with a glue stick.
She was already heading back out to the door.
“Oh, duh.” She shook her head again, but was smiling. “No. Well, yes, but Jack asked me to make it for you after they got you settled in with Chris, and they knew you would be ok. It’s really from him. Well, he said from the Block, but I made it like he asked. I don’t get it, but whatever. I was coming up from the art room and saw your light on under your door.” Her face clenched a little. “Sorry if that sounded creepy. It’s not like I was crouched down looking under your door. You can see it with the dark hallways at night.”
Evie chuckled a bit. “It’s alright. Really.”
Anna gave her a big, sweet smile and left. “Good night.”
“Good night,” Evie said distractedly after the click of the door closing was heard.
She got the flap undone and sat down on the bed feeling exhausted again, ready for sleep. She pulled out a thick piece of white watercolor paper, folded in half over itself like it was a Hallmark card. Her fingers pinched the bottom flap, and pulled it up to open it. Almost the entire thing was blank, not a mark on it. Except for the bottom right corner where a perfectly rendered strawberry sat drawn from colored pencils. It looked so real and perfect she could almost feel the little seeds and the smoothness of the plump crimson flesh as she slid the pad of one of her fingers over the exact likeness.
Her eyes immediately filled with tears that she blinked away. She turned back to the window and searched across the courtyard. His light was of
f. She looked at it for a long time after, completely overtaken by the significance of such a simple thing. She placed it gently on the little kitchen table then tucked herself into bed. She was ready to get some sleep. She had things to finish.
CHAPTER 33
Evangeline, Alone.
He looked at the thick piece of watercolor paper over and over again as if something new would appear on it. But nothing would. He stared at his target. It was the same one he made the first time he came up to the fourth floor to try the bow.
Last night after going to see Evie, he couldn’t sleep. He spent a good chunk of it there until he was too tired to focus his eyes on the bullseye. When he woke up, it wasn’t much later. He was anxious to go check on her. He got dressed and was heading to the stairs when he realized it was only dawn. Still way too early to go see her. He’d grab something to eat and wait it out a little longer. But when he reached the top of the steps, he heard Magda calling for him.
He looked towards her office and saw her sitting outside it on one of the chairs meant for misbehaving kids waiting to be scolded when the school was supposed to be just a school. She beckoned him over and patted the seat next to her. He immediately felt like he was about be lectured about something when he sat down next to her.
“Evie wanted me to give this to you.” She handed him a little package wrapped up in the handkerchief she had bandaged his hand in at the Ranch. It was the one he had recently given back to her. He looked at Magda confused. When she took a deep breath and looked down, his heart dropped. She looked back up at him with a kind smile.
“She came to me, just a bit ago this morning to give me the pumpkin seeds she acquired the other day. Even wrote down the directions for us for the best chance at getting the best harvest.” She smiled at him again in an attempt to relax him, but the intensity on his face and nervous twisting of one of the corners of the handkerchief’s ties told her that wasn’t going to happen. “She’s planning to leave today.”
He stood up immediately, and she put her hands up to stop him.
“Jack.”
His eyes flickered all around the open space, out over the entryway of the first floor. He sighed heavily, and sat back down.
“She told me this was what she needed. That this was her first step. She said this was her helping herself.”
He knew those were his words, but he wasn’t sure he wanted her to take them as having to leave here. He thought of that little beautiful, white gun he had given back to her.
“She’s not upset, Jack. She seemed in a great place. Ready to start. Isn’t that what you wanted?” she asked sincerely.
He nodded. “Yeah. I just, I guess, I didn’t want her to do it alone.”
She gave him another smile. “Only Evangeline, alone, can do this. When she’s ready, I’m sure she’ll come back.”
He had to hold in the scoff at the back of his throat. He thought of Nico, his anger and fierce protectiveness of her. He got it now. Knowing how badly she was hurting, but having her walk away without being able to help. He tried to take solace in Magda’s words, that she was in a good place. Then he thought if anyone was capable of going out there and coming back with what they were looking for, it was Evie.
“Can’t I even say goodbye?” he said, a bit annoyed.
Magda pointed at the little package he held in his hand. “I think that is the goodbye.”
He gave her another nod of his head. Frustration and helplessness surged through him. He rose to leave.
“Jack. She didn’t say goodbye to anyone. She just goes, you know that. She came to me so none of us would worry when we realized she was gone. The only thing she did do was leave that package for you.”
“Yeah,” he said it ruder than he intended, but he walked back to his room, leaving Magda sitting by herself again.
He walked in, grabbed his bow, and headed back up to the fourth floor. When he reached his shooting spot, he sat and looked at the package in his hand. The knot was tight, but he got it undone and pulled aside one corner revealing a piece of ripped watercolor paper. He looked at the writing scrolled across it.
You know I have to.
I’ll come back.
-E
He dropped it in his lap and went back to the package still laying in his other hand. He pulled back the rest of the corners, feeling the weight of something else inside. Laying in the palm of his hand, atop the handkerchief, sat her derringer, gleaming pearly white. He squeezed his eyes shut, his chest heaving in relief. It was then he realized his agitation was placed on the thought of her leaving with this gun. It was stupid, as if her other gun couldn’t fulfill the same purpose, but leaving this with him… that was a promise, or at least he hoped it was.
His chest still hurt, like he was punched in it. He sat there, looking at her words on the paper over and over as if they would change. They didn’t. He stood, putting the note and gun back in the handkerchief then onto the sill of the tarp covered window. Reaching back down, he grabbed his bow and notched an arrow. He was about to release it when he turned back around and looked down at the note again.
Outside he heard the faint sound of the gate scraping open. He pulled aside the tarp to have a look at what was going on. There she stood. She hadn’t left yet! He thought about knocking on the window, but he knew, even if she did hear it, she wouldn’t have turned around. Instead, he watched her go from the fourth floor window. She walked out of the gate, her huge pack fully stocked, never turning back, like he knew she would. He watched her in the golden-gray light of dawn. His hand tightened on his bow, and he whipped around pulling the string as he went, releasing as he faced the target. The thwack of the arrow hitting it reverberated around the empty cement floored room. The fletching of it wobbled up and down, the arrow point firmly in the center of the bullseye. He turned back to the window, and the road was empty.
Epilogue
His vantage point was perfect. It always was. This was not the first time he’d used it for something exactly like this. The other guys were in their spots, too. He could see everything he needed to clearly through the tree line. But it wasn’t what he expected, or wanted. The entire Center was out there, giving their thanks. That green truck they took from those idiots, now dead idiots, sat fully packed and fueled for them. They won’t be walking through the road anymore. Carmichael’s now posthumous order was going to be left unfollowed.
He dropped back behind the low wall of the buildings roof, his back pushed flat against the cement. He let his head fall back hard once, hoping the jolt might force an idea, but at best it just illustrated his frustration, futilely. The faint whistle of a bird song snapped him out of it, but it was no bird. The sharp staccato notes was their signal and he was going to have to move forward with something, but what? Everything that happened couldn’t stand uncorrected. At some point, in some way, that group, her… they were going to have to pay for this disruption.
He pulled himself up just enough for them to see him and delivered the next order. A hand up, palm out to stop them; a swish of his finger tips down diagonally told them it was canceled; and one finger up to tell the group to wait. They melted back into the shadows and behind corners. He watched as they drove the truck out of the Center’s lot and back out through the streets passing each one of his men unknowingly, as the grateful people watched their departure en masse. It was the sight of their happy faces and relaxed shoulders that pushed him over the edge.
“Fuck!” He hissed out through clenched teeth, trying to hold back the anger and scream he really wanted to release.
Just over the ledge on the other side of the roof a head slowly rose.
“Boss?” The man stayed on the emergency ladder on the side of the building tentatively peering over the ledge at the disgruntled man.
The man rose up just enough on one knee to watch the crowd slowly flow back through the doors like they were being sucked in. The dead rattled in-between the cars, pulling their leads taunt towards the living as they disapp
eared inside. A massive sigh of frustration hissed from the leader's mouth as the front door to the Center closed behind the final person. Below them the rest of the men, all dressed in black, frayed shirts pulled over muscled arms and shoulders, looked up to their group mate for their orders to make its way down.
The man cleared his throat and took a deep breath, “Boss-“
“I know!” His head whipped around, his face distorted in anger. He glared at the huge man until his features began to morph back to a neutral state.
Patiently and nervously the fighter waited until his boss regained his composure. The scene was strange with the large, hardened fighter shrinking back from the ire of the small young man and flinching as he began another attempt to speak to him.
“What now, sir?” He finally asked so meekly his deep voice sounded like a distant echo.
The leader slowly stood, still looking out towards the Center. He brushed the knees of his worn jeans off with his hands and rolled his eyes as he exhaled.
He looked over his shoulder just enough to see the bulking mans torso, now straight and at attention. The fighter's arms were rigid at his sides in respect as he waited to be addressed by the young guy who, as of twenty minutes ago, was Carmichael’s assistant.
“Looks like you’re finally going to the house.”
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
There's a lot of people who encouraged me and believed in me throughout this and lit the spark that pushed me to not only write it all down, but to finish it, which in the writing world is the hardest part.
I'd like to thank again Erin Panner who edited this book for me. Without her there would've been about five thousand more commas, "just"s, and "then"s, as well as indiscernible things that only made sense in my head. If there are still mistakes within these pages, they are surely all mine.
This has been the beginning of a super crazy journey. I look forward to completing the second part of this story soon, and moving to its conclusion from there. I hope you enjoyed it and are watching out for the second book.
Evangeline, Alone. (Book 1): Evangeline, Alone Page 50
